Page 21 of Frozen Flames

I expect him to beg me to stop, or worse, kick me out of his room.

Instead, he swallows, then looks back at the ceiling while I keep reading, hoping with all my might that perhaps this story will distract him from his melancholy.

When I finish the first chapter, I wonder if I should keep going. His eyes lock with mine, and I can’t help moving toward the bed, wanting to make things better for him.

“Harvey,please…I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong!”

He chuckles darkly. “You can’t help me, Claire. No one can.”

“Does Gemma know how bad your depressive episodes are?”

“She’s…seen them. Don’t tell anyone. The last thing I need is for Gemma to ask more questions instead of justlistening.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay quiet, playing with my fingers, staring at this man and seeing,reallyseeing, this side of him once more.

His skin is pale, and the bags under his eyes make him look sullen, void.

Despite that, my fingers are itching to push his hair back so I can see more of his pretty face.

“Why did you stop?”

“Hmm?” I shake out of my reverie. “What was that?”

“Keep reading. Your voice, it’s…soothing.”

I swallow, wishing to give him comfort in any way I can. Deep down, I’m chastising myself because I can feel myself crossing a professional line with him.

Yet I sit back on his chair and keep reading a few more chapters.

Because nothing else matters than my giving him a little moment of serenity.

Harvey’s been in a good mood today.

I’m not sure if it’s because PT has been going well the past three days or if it’s because of Gemma, but he’s seemed much happier.

I’m texting Audrey after Harvey and I spent some time outside around the firepit. I don’t have one at home, so it was nice to experience it. The burning wood aroma filters throughout the house, making this frigid day easier to bear.

“Do you want to keep readingLittle Women?” I ask him once we’re inside and he’s settled on the couch.

“Little Women?”

“The book I read to you…before.” I clear my throat, still standing and holding the book against my chest.

I can feel a rejection coming.

We haven’t spoken about his lying in bed all day Tuesday. The next day he seemed in a much better mood, and I didn’t want to impede the progress.

“Sure” is all he says.

I swallow, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. And I dive into this little world, chapter by chapter, occasionally stealing glances at Harvey.

“Beth dies, doesn’t she?” he mutters randomly.

“What makes you say that?” I ask, astonished he would predict that this early on.

“Because she’s nice and selfless.” He shrugs. “She seems to be the glue among the sisters, the levelheaded one, despite her retreating inward. Sometimes I feel like bad things often happen to good people.”

I swallow. “The same way it did to you?”

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